The Thirteenth Floor
by TheAngelsHaveThePhoneBox
Summary: Every hotel in New York has a floor that doesn't exist, hiding something the Doctor's only heard ghost stories about. With guests going missing, and all New York in danger, Ryan Murphy's first trip in the TARDIS might be a bumpy one. Episode 2 in a series
1. Chapter 1

**(A.N.)This story is the second episode of my personal Doctor Who series, featuring original companion Ryan Murphy. If you haven't read Episode 1 "The Last Day" and would like to do so, the link is in my profile. Though I suppose you don't have to do so if you're just looking for a good Doctor Who story. :)**

**Hello to any returning readers (if I have any). I really wanted Episode 2 up ****soon ****after I'd finished Episode 1, so I could hopefully finish it before starting on Uni work. Sadly I ran into a few problems, such as discovering a Superman comic had done BASICALLY EVERYTHING I PLANNED TO DO! So obviously, there was a lot or re-writing. However, I now have Uni work I have to concentrate on, so updates will not be as quick as I would like, but I'll try my best.**

**Anyway ****I hope you enjoy, and don't forget to drop me a review! Here's Episode Two...**

* * *

Okay, so maybe she was a _little _drunk.

Certainly, her legs were slightly less sturdy than usual, which might make stairs difficult. But after all, that's what elevators were for.

Despite the late hour, there were still some staff behind the front desk, who sent her the occasional disapproving glance. Andrea gave them a defiant, if slightly lopsided smile as she passed. They were very snooty here. Then again, if she worked in a five star hotel right in the middle of Manhattan, and was earning gazillions for checking people in and out of rooms, she might be a little snooty too.

There was a brief moment of panic when she couldn't find the elevators, but this soon passed once she realised she was already standing in front of them. A few seconds and a 'ding' later, she was stepping through the doors and admiring the artist's rendering of the New York City skyline displayed on the walls of the elevator. She tried to press the button for her floor, but this was easier said than done, the alcohol in her system wreaking havoc on her hand-eye-coordination. After a few drunken misses, she pushed the button for the 12th floor. Or, at least, she thought she did. It was close to the button she usually pressed, and she supposed that would do.

Andrea sighed, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. She may have fallen into a drunken, standing sleep if it had not been for the 'ding' of the elevator reaching its destination shaking her out of her slumber.

The only problem was, she'd been expecting a 'ding'. A 'ding' like the one that rang every other time she'd rode the elevators during her stay here. What she'd just heard was a different type of 'ding'. Low and tuneless, like it was broken.

She pondered this for a second, but then shook her head, momentarily losing her balance as a result. She stepped through the doors and began walking towards her room at the end of the hall.

It was a few second before Andrea realised there were no lights on in the hallway. None. Only the moonlight sneaking through the window at the very end of the hallway. Otherwise, just darkness. Her first thought was that there had been a power outage, and that she should march right back down to the lobby and complain. But that couldn't be true, as the lights inside the elevator car were performing well enough.

As if in response, the elevator doors drew themselves closed, that unnerving 'ding' ringing out again,

She looked at the sign above the doors, the numerical lights telling her the elevator was already a few floors down. Too tired to wait, and not trusting herself to withstand marching anywhere in this state, she again started walking towards her room.

She was almost at the end of the corridor when the moonlight fell upon one of the many doors she was passing. The room number, and those on the rest of the doors, were all in the 1300s. Her room, however, was 1205, and all of the room numbers on her floor began with a 12.

Sighing in exhaustion, Andrea realised she had pushed the wrong button and gone up one floor too many. The phrase 'never drinking again' sprung to mind. She turned back towards the lift, stopping when she saw that none of the little numbers above the door were illuminated. Nor was the button next to it. She was almost certain both had been working perfectly when she had started walking away from the elevator. Why had they gone out now?

Andrea ignored the little twinge of panic. She'd had too much to drink, she told herself, and she was over-reacting. The hotel had simply suffered a power failure, that was all. And yet, she couldn't stop herself walking towards the stairs a little faster than was necessary.

Suddenly, a noise cut through the silence. A click, followed swiftly by a creak. A door had opened behind her. Andrea stopped walking. She didn't turn around, she didn't want to. So she waited for whoever had opened the door to speak to her. A few seconds passed, no voice came. So Andrea started walking again, just that little bit quicker.

Then it happened again. A click, and a creak. Again, Andrea waited to be spoken to. And again, there was nothing. Hands shaking, Andrea slowly turned her head to look behind her.

The very last two doors at the end of the hall had opened, just a crack. Two streaks of light were spilling out of them and across the floor. There was no shadow of fellow guests behind the door, checking to see who was walking outside their room at such an hour. Just light. A weird, silky white light.

"Hello?" Andrea said. There was no response. "I'm sorry if I woke you." she added. "I'm just on the wrong floor. I think there's been some sort of a power failure."

But still, no one answered her.

"Typical, right?" she said, chuckling weakly. "You pay hundreds of dollars for a five star hotel and the power goes out?"

She began to wonder if there even was anyone behind the doors to answer her, and she started to back up towards the elevator. "Sorry, again, if I woke you, I mean." she rambled. "I'm just gonna, uh, go down to my floor now. So, um, goodnight."

Another door opened, the next one up from the two already open. It's light fell across the floor, the same silky glow as the others coming from inside. A second later, and the door opposite that opened. And then the one next to that. And suddenly, they were all opening. A horrible rush of clicks and creaks, as every door started to open, one after the other, moving up the hallway, towards her.

Andrea dropped her purse and started running. She ran as fast as her intoxicated legs would take her, trying to scream but too terrified to do so. The clicks were getting louder, the light was gaining on her, the elevator was too far away. She wasn't going to make it.

And then she tripped. She fell face first onto the posh carpeted floor. Before she could even attempt to get back to her unsteady feet, it was too late. The door to her immediate right opened. She saw the light. Saw what was inside. And then, there was no Andrea left to see anything.

* * *

**DOCTOR WHO**

_**The Thirteenth Floor**_

* * *

The blue doors opened, and Ryan Murphy came face to face with the Universe. An infinite black, streaked with the occasional unearthly blue, and dotted with the lights of a thousand worlds.

"Pick one." said the Doctor.

Ryan looked at him, leaning against the door frame and smirking at Ryan.

"…what?" Ryan replied.

"The stars." said the Doctor, nodding towards them. "Pick one, and that's where we'll go."

Ryan shook his head. "No, no. I understood the question, I was just trying to draw your attention to how insane it is."

The Doctor frowned. "What's insane? Pick a planet out of the sky, and that's our destination."

"The big deal is that the furthest I've been away from England is to my Nan and Granddad's retirement villa in Crete, and now you're asking me to pick a whole new world to go to. Can you really not see how that might be a big deal?"

"If it helps," the Doctor offered. "I think there's a planet in the future based on 21st century Crete. We can go there, if you fancy it?"

Ryan winced. "No thanks. Present day Crete is enough, don't need to see the planet."

The Doctor stepped off the door frame and looked at Ryan, the starlight bouncing off his eyes. "Really, though. Anywhere. Anytime. The entire known Universe at your disposal, and some of the unknown bits. Where do you want to go first?"

And suddenly Ryan knew how to answer.

"New York City." he said.

The Doctor's smile faltered. "…sorry?"

"What, is that not okay?" said Ryan quickly, fearing he'd said the wrong thing.

"No, no, it's fine. It's just…" He glanced out of the doors again. "When people see the field full of other planets, that's usually the direction they want to go in."

"I know." Ryan nodded. "And I do, eventually. But I've barely seen any of my own planet yet. And New York! That's like a living movie set, y'know? When I was a kid, it was like all everybody on TV talked about was New York. Everything seemed to happen there. Friends, Spider-Man, Ghostbusters, everything. And I always said, if I ever got the chance…" He trailed off, suddenly feeling a bit silly. But when he looked back at the Doctor, he found him smiling at him.

"That'd be the first place you'd go." the Doctor finished.

"Yeah."

"Well then." said the Doctor. "New York it is." And he threw the blue doors closed and ran towards the TARDIS console. "Actually, on second thought, other planets are great stuff, but there really isn't anywhere in all of space and time quite like New York City!"

"You've been?" asked Ryan, following him up the steps and onto the glass platform where the console sat.

"Have I been?" asked the Doctor, beginning to pull random levers and push whichever buttons jumped out to him. "I sailed the ship that brought over the Statue of Liberty. It was my idea to put all the theatres on Broadway. And I once went for a lovely walk through central park with John Lennon."

As the Doctor disappeared around the other end of the console, Ryan's jaw dropped. "You knew John Lennon?"

"Knew him?" said the Doctor, poking his head around the central column to face Ryan. "I was the seventh Beatle!"

Ryan frowned. "Don't you mean fifth Beatle?"

"No, Brian Epstein was the fifth Beatle. Then there was this other bloke, Pete Best, he was probably the sixth Beatle. But then it's me, honestly!"

Ryan laughed. "Okay."

"Oh." said the Doctor. "And one more thing."

"What?"

"Hold on to something!"

The floor lurched, and Ryan was sent flying into the console, as the glass ornament in the central column began to rise and fall, accompanied by the grinding mechanical noise of the TARDIS engines. On the opposite side of the console, the Doctor laughed as Ryan hung on for dear life. With a final_ thunk_, they landed.

"All in one piece?" the Doctor asked.

"Just about." Ryan replied, steadying himself. His eyes shot to the door. "Are we there? Is that New York outside?"

The Doctor grinned. "The one and only." Ryan made a move towards them, but the Doctor stopped. "Whoa, and just where do you think you're going?"

Ryan stopped and looked back at him. "Err, New York?"

"Not yet you're not." said the Doctor, stepping towards Ryan and looking suddenly serious. "Travelling in the TARDIS is a privilege. You must, at all times, follow the rules of time-space travel. With no exceptions. Understand?"

Ryan nodded quickly. "Yeah, of course."

"Good. Now, rule number one." he said, suddenly beaming with a mischievous smirk. "There are no rules!"

Ryan laughed and went to go for the doors again.

"Rule number two." said the Doctor. "Always bring a jacket."

Ryan looked back in confusion. The Doctor seemed serious again.

"Never know what type of weather you'll get in New York City, so you should always bring a jacket. Do you have a jacket, Ryan Murphy?" Ryan shook his head. "Right then, better go down to the wardrobe and get one. I'll come with you, fill you in on the rest of the rules. For example," he said, putting an arm around a mystified Ryan and leading him away from the doors. "Rule number three: If you ever see a sign offering Free Chocolate, never go inside! It's always a trap."

* * *

_End of Chapter One_


	2. Chapter 2

**(A.N.) Big thank you to Aromene, my new beta. Hopefully there won't be any more silly spelling mistakes/continuity mess-ups from now on. :D**

**Here's chapter two:**

* * *

"Woah, woah, woah, not so fast," said Frankie. "You get your hands outta that tip-jar, or in five seconds you ain't gonna have no hands left!"

"But I need change for the bus!" said the guy in the suit.

"Does this sign say coin dispenser?" Frankie asked, gesturing to the sign above his hot dog cart.

"No." said the suit-guy.

"What does it say?"

The suit-guy sighed. "Frankie's Empire State Sausages."

"Exactly. You want change, you buy a hot dog. Now do you want one or not?"

"Fine. Gimmie one."

"That'll be three bucks."

"That's more money that I have!"

"Well what do you want me to do about it, pal? Get outta here!"

The guy in the suit stormed off, muttering curses under his breath. Frankie shook his head, and went back to his sausages.

But suddenly he heard something. In the distance, and hard to hear over the hustle and bustle of Times Square. But he'd know that noise anywhere.

The grinding of ancient engines. A wheezing, groaning, impossible noise.

Frankie smiled. The Doctor was here.

* * *

"And finally," said the Doctor, closing the TARDIS doors behind him. "Rule number 26: Never get in anything with a Capissen 38 engine, they just fall right out of the sky."

But Ryan wasn't listening.

They had landed on a beautiful day in Central Park, not far from the lake. Ryan could see the famous skyline towering over the tree-tops. New Yorkers lazed about on the grass and chatted amongst themselves. In the distance he could hear car horns and grinding traffic. And Ryan had to laugh. He was standing in the middle of New York City.

"Have you got all that?" asked the Doctor, coming to stand next to Ryan.

Ryan didn't remember half of the rules, so he gave the Doctor a blank smile. "Errr… yeah. Sure."

"I can go through them again, if you like?"

"No!" said Ryan, a little too quickly. "No. Um, that's not necessary."

The Doctor gave him a brief frown, but nodded and turned towards the park.

"Are you sure you want this year? I mean, NYC is never dull, but in 2011 it's not exactly exploding. Now, 1984! That's a belter!"

"Nah," said Ryan, shaking his head. "This is perfect."

The Doctor glanced at him, gazing around the park with that look of wonder usually reserved for alien planets, and smiled slightly. Perhaps his latest companion had watched one too many movies growing up.

"Ah!" said the Doctor, spotting something. "A newspaper, lovely." He walked across to the park bench where the lonely newspaper flittered in the wind, and picked it up. He held it out in front of him as he continued walking along the footpath. "Always a good way to check the date. The TARDIS is not always as reliable as it's instruction manual would claim."

"Well, that's comforting," said Ryan, setting off after him. "Always nice to know you're travelling the universe in an unreliable ship."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, and started flicking through the insides of the newspaper.

"So," said Ryan, his attempt to take in every aspect of the park at once making it difficult to keep up with the Doctor's brisk walk. "What's the plan?"

"Plan?" the Doctor asked, scrunching the newspaper up into a ball and launching it towards a nearby trash can; wincing when it didn't even come close to landing inside.

"Danger, monsters, life or death," said Ryan. "I though that was what you were all about? _Umpth!_"

The Doctor had come to a sudden stop, and Ryan had collided face first into his tweed-covered shoulder. He massaged his jaw in pain, while the Doctor continued as though nothing had happened.

"I'm not _all_ about that. Oh, who am I kidding, I'm _entirely_ about that. However, it is occasionally nice to have a relaxing, calm, danger-free vacation. Travel broadens the mind, as they say; 'they' being me. And I'm sure the mind finds it much easier to broaden if its not being chased down a corridor or attempting to solve some big mystery. But this your gap year, Ryan Murphy. So what would you prefer?"

"Well," said Ryan. "As much as I love a good ol' alien-with-a-burning-desire-to-kill-me; and don't get me wrong, I've been jonesing for one of those since the Aniline; I wouldn't mind seeing the sights, you know? Having a tourist-y poke around Times Square? Going up the Empire State Building? And just generally - do you smell hot dogs?"

The Doctor sniffed. "Ooh, I do indeed."

"Let's get hot dogs."

And with that, he was running towards the park exit.

"Oi!" cried the Doctor, following. "Don't wander off. That was rule number one! Oh, no it wasn't. Forgot all about it. Well, it's the golden rule!"

* * *

Greg fiddled with his tie, took a deep breath, and made his way across the busy hotel lobby, towards his boss.

He had only been working at _The Ramis Hotel_ for a few weeks, and he figured it was his status as the newbie which led to his fellow employees insistence that he be the one to inform Mr Sedgewick of the problem. He also wondered if this was a prank, a hazing ritual of sorts. After all, this seemed a fairly straightforward issue, certainly not one that had to be taken to the hotel manager himself. But his colleagues had seemed extremely uncomfortable about the whole thing, insisting it be brought to Mr Sedgewick's attention immediately.

Which is why Greg found himself standing in front of his boss, as he greeted guests heading into the hotel restaurant for lunch.

"Mrs Joseph," said Mr Sedgewick, his pencil moustache rising into a convincingly false smile. "You are looking rather lovely, enjoy your meal."

Greg cleared his throat. "Excuse me, sir?"

Mr Sedgwick looked at him, fake smile falling instantly. "Yes?"

"Sorry to bother you, sir. Um. We have a problem."

Mr Sedgewick put on his smile again as he welcomed the last guest into the restaurant, and then set off towards the hotel reception on the other side of the lobby.

"What kind of problem?" he asked.

"It's one of the guests, sir," said Greg, dodging other guests and bellhops pushing luggage carriers in his attempts to keep up with Mr Sedgewick. "A Miss Andrea Thomas?"

Mr Sedgewick nodded. "Yes, one of our more wealthy guests. Likes to have a drink or six every now and then. What's she done, cleaned us out of those little whiskeys we put in the mini-bar?"

"Err, no, sir. She was supposed to check out two hours ago, and she did not."

Mr Sedgewick shrugged. "She's probably still asleep, send someone up to her room and tell them to knock loudly, they'll be waking someone out of a bourbon induced coma."

"We already have done, sir. There was no answer. We went inside, but there was no one there."

Sedgewick looked at him, as though interested in the conversation for the first time. "A runner?"

Greg shook her head. "I don't think so, sir. All her luggage were still there, money and credit cards still in the safe."

Mr Sedgewick thought for a second, and shrugged again. "She probably had a wild night. I'm sure she'll turn up in a few hours. Look for the woman in a creased dress and running eyeliner doing the walk of shame through the hotel lobby."

They reached the reception desk, where Mr Sedgewick was handed some forms to sign. Greg cleared his throat again.

"The thing is, sir," he said. "I was on the desk last night. I saw her leave the bar and get into the elevator."

Sedgewick stopped writing instantly, and looked at Greg.

"Have you checked the security cameras?"

"Yes, sir." Greg nodded. "But it's weird. We see her get into the elevator down here, but when the elevator reaches her floor… she's not in it."

Mr Sedgwick looked suddenly pale. "What floor was she staying on?" he asked.

"The twelfth, sir."

Sedgewick closed his eyes and put down his pen. He took a deep breath. He moved closer to Greg, looked around the lobby to see who might overhear them, and spoke again in a low, unsteady voice.

"Send someone up to her room, gather all of her things, take them at least three blocks away and dump them. Do not use the official hotel disposal system, and do not make any record of it. If anyone asks: Andrea Thomas checked out this morning right on time, walked out those doors, and we never saw her again. Understand?"

Greg stammered under Mr Sedgewick's suddenly intense gaze. "B-but, sir, I… I don't underst - "

"Listen to me," Mr Sedgewick snapped, his tiny moustache curling into a snarl. "Do exactly as I say or you are fired. If you must ask questions, ask them to your colleagues, but do it quietly! I don't want one word of this getting out. Do you understand me?"

Greg swallowed, and nodded his head. "Yes, sir."

When he was gone, Sedgewick let out a shaky sigh, and brought a hand to his face.

"This cannot be happening again," he said.

* * *

By lunchtime, the Doctor was already bored.

"I thought we were going to get hot dogs?" he said. They were walking through Times Square; or rather, Ryan was walking, taking in the magnificent sights and sounds, while the Doctor trailed behind, every now and then letting out a not-so-subtle sigh.

"Will you stop whinging, for God's sake." Ryan replied. "You'd think I was dragging an 8 year old around a stamp museum. This is New York City!"

"I know," the Doctor admitted. "And I suppose it's pretty spectacular. But…"

"You need an alien," said Ryan, turning to him with a knowing smirk. "Or a mystery, or some other form of life-threatening event."

"Well, when you put it like that it doesn't sound healthy," said the Doctor defensively. "I just have a short attention span, that's all. Anyway, you need a good mystery every now and then. Keeps the brain fit!"

Ryan shook his head in exasperation. "Fine. Go find a mystery. I'll see the sights, and meet you back at the TARDIS in about 2 hours."

The Doctor gave him a long look. "Promise to be careful?" he asked.

"I'm playing tourist, you're the one going off to find a fight."

"Fair point." he said. "Right then. You, TARDIS, two hours, be there or be square. Or oblong, or hexagon, or whichever shape takes your fancy. I always liked the rhombus."

He held up his hand, which Ryan hi-fived, and set off across the road, looking back towards Ryan as he did. "I mean it, Ryan Murphy! Stay out of troub - "

A car horn blared, and a yellow taxi cab came to a screeching halt inches from the Doctor's legs. The driver stuck his head out of the window and glared at the Doctor. "Hey, Pee Wee Herman. Watch where you're goin',"

The Doctor, taken aback, watched the cab speed away, and turned back to see Ryan fighting a snigger.

"…shut up," he said, and walked towards the crosswalk.

* * *

Carla noticed the hotel staff seemed very uneasy today, but she found it hard to care. She simply informed the staff at the front desk that she would be checking out a few days earlier, citing a family emergency, and went up to her room to pack her things.

She held back the tears as she walked through the lobby, and thanked the lord when she was able to step into an empty elevator. As soon as the doors drew themselves closed, she started to sob.

It was funny how one phone call could change everything. Here she was, enjoying a lovely weekend in the city, set up in a classy hotel, until her phone buzzed. She'd never be able to hear that noise again without being drawn back to that moment. It was her mother, who informed her that her father had died of a sudden heart attack. Her vacation was, of course, over. She would be on a flight back to Florida this evening.

As she stood crying in the elevator, Carla was filled with an overwhelming desire to skip the packing, the cab ride, the airport security, the flight, all of it. She just wanted to be with her family, where she belonged, but be there now. She just wanted to be home.

No sooner had she finished this thought, than the elevator announced its arrival with a 'ding'.

Except it wasn't the usual 'ding'. It sounded broken. And if the time was only 1pm, then why, Carla asked herself, was the corridor in front of her covered in darkness?

* * *

The Doctor waited patiently while the person in front of him was served, and when they walked off with hotdog in hand, he stepped forward. The short yet wide man in front of him was turning over sausages with a pair of tongs. He wiped his hands on his apron, and fixed his baseball cap.

"What can I get you?" he said, in that thick Manhattan accent that the Doctor loved.

"The usual, please," said the Doctor.

At the sound of his voice, Frankie dropped his tongs and looked up, a giant smile stretching across his face.

"I'll be damned!" he yelled, coming around the cart and lifting the Doctor off the ground with a mammoth hug. "The Doctor is in! I knew it! Heard ya little box a million miles away!"

"Thought you might," said the Doctor, when Frankie had placed him back on the floor. He grabbed the shorter man by the shoulders and gave him a squeeze of his own. "Frankie, my old friend, how are you?"

"Quivering with fear now that you're here." Frankie laughed, waving the Doctor over to a plastic table and chairs set up next to his cart.

"Frankie, I'm offended," said the Doctor, sitting down across from his friend.

"Last time I saw you," said Frankie, "You blew the top three floors off an uptown high-rise. Time before that, we were stuck in the subway tunnels for 3 hours, chasing something called a 'Gelf', which we never caught and I still hear stories about. That's not to even mention those huge reptile-things that came outta the Central Park lake!"

"And who was it that led me to those things, eh? You! You're my man on the street, Frankie."

"I'm honoured," he deadpanned.

"So," said the Doctor, pulling his plastic chair, "Frankie. Anything odd going on lately?"

"Well, we got about a billion unsolved murders, if you want to take a crack at those?"

"Nah," the Doctor shook his head. "They're boring, the Police can deal with them. I'm mean anything _strange_."

Frankie shrugged. "Not to my knowledge. Customers all seem fine, no complaints, no worries. Sorry to disappoint," he added, when he saw the Doctor slough into his chair.

"Not your fault. Don't worry about it." he said.

"You flying solo?" Frankie asked, looking around. "Not like you, Doc."

The Doctor winced. "How many times. It's Doctor. Not 'Doc'. Never 'Doc'. And no, I'm with a new mate of mine, Ryan. But we've split up for a bit." The Doctor cast a cautious glance down the busy street. "He's staying out of trouble, I hope."

* * *

Ryan, needing a break from the heat, had wandered into a building with big revolving doors, assuming it was a hotel but mostly hoping it had air conditioning.

Upon entering the lobby, he let out an impressed whistle. The polished reception was at the far end of the vast hall, with doors to a restaurant and bar on either side. A grand fountain stood on display in the centre, while guests sat comfortably on the many leather couches throughout, with hotel staff rushing to and fro in their attempts to please.

His eyes fell on the lifts next to the main desk. On his way in, he'd risked a look up and been amazed at the sheer size of the building. Rather than wait in line to go up the Empire State Building, Ryan figured there would be a window on the top floor of the hotel that would give him an equally breathtaking view of the city.

He stepped into the cool elevator car and pushed the button for the top floor. He admired the artist rendering of the NYC skyline on the walls, and took off the jacket the Doctor had insisted he'd wear, but had nearly caused him to pass out with heat exhaustion.

With the lift ride being substantially longer than those he was used to back home, he found himself staring at the panel next to the doors, where there was a screen next to the buttons that displayed what floor the car was currently on. When he did so, however, something else caught his attention.

He blinked, and looked again. Bemused, he stepped closer to the buttons, and bent towards them, just to make sure he hadn't missed it. He counted all of the buttons in succession, twice, but reached the same conclusion.

For some reason, the buttons on the lift's panel listed the numbers 1-12, skipped 13, and carried on from 14 until the top floor. Floor 14's button was placed directly after floor 12's button, as if that were that natural order.

His curiosity stirred, Ryan pressed the button for 12. The lift changed directions, and soon the doors opened and a sign on the wall of the corridor told him he was on the 12th floor. Ryan took a good look at the sign, stepped back in the lift and pressed the button for 14. The lift doors closed, reopened a few seconds later, and Ryan came face to face with a sign informing him of his arrival on the 14th floor.

"What the…?" Ryan whispered to himself.

Utterly confused, he stepped out of the lift and followed the signs directing him to the staircase. Before walking down the steps, he again used the sign to confirm he was indeed on the 14th Floor. Then, he walked down each step slowly, as if in fear he might accidentally go down too many by mistake. He kept walking until he reached the floor directly below, which the sign listed as the 12th.

"How is that even possible?" he said.

A few moments later, back in the hotel lobby, Walter Sedgewick noticed a young boy standing by the elevators, scratching his head and squinting at them. He gave the boy a quick once over, noticing his visible perspiration, dirty sneakers, and t-shirt displaying the Superman logo. He was obviously not a guest in Walter's hotel.

"Excuse me?" said Walter when he approached the boy. "Are you lost?"

Ryan looked at him, face still a picture of vague puzzlement, and simply said, "The lift."

"I'm sorry?" said Walter.

"The lift." Ryan repeated, nodding toward the metal doors in front of him.

"Are you referring to the elevators?" Walter asked.

"Yes, the elevators, the lift, whatever. The things that you get in when you want to go up! Or down."

Walter eyed Ryan irritably, and began looking around for a member of security he could signal to. "What about them?"

"You're missing a floor."

Now it was Walter's turn to look perplexed. "Excuse me?"

"There's no thirteenth floor," said Ryan. "There's a twelfth floor. And a fourteenth floor. But no thirteenth." Ryan attempted to illustrate what he was saying with a series of hand gestures, which mostly involved one hand sitting a few inches above the other, whilst the fingers pointed to the obvious gap in between. "I walked from the fourteenth floor, to the twelfth floor, without finding the thirteenth floor. How is that possible?"

Walter let out an annoyed sigh, bored with the child now, and ready to chastise his security personal for not being readily available. "This hotel has no thirteenth floor. None of the old hotels do. It was considered unlucky around the time of construction."

"You skipped a whole floor of a building," asked Ryan, "because you were superstitious?"

"How many floors this hotel may or may not have is none of your concer… did you say you were on the twelfth floor?"

"Without going through thirteenth!" Ryan re-emphasised.

But Walter looked suddenly furious, his tiny moustache shaking as he grinded his teeth. "You are not a guest of this establishment, and as hotel manager I therefore order you leave the premises at once, or I will be calling the police." But Ryan didn't move, surprised at Walter's sudden rage. "Get out!" Walter roared.

Ryan did as he was told. Or started to, at least. After a few steps towards the exit, he glanced back at the manager, who stood in the same spot, trembling with what Ryan assumed was anger. Just then, a hotel employee made his way over to the manager, fidgeting nervously with his tie.

Since Walter still had his back to Ryan, he quickly moved closer to the two and listened in.

"Please make sure no more non-guests ride the elevators," Mr Sedgewick said. "If what happened last night happens again, and to someone not staying here, it will be far more difficult to cover up."

"I'm sorry, sir," said the employee. "But… it has happened again. Another guest, Carla Dinsmore, came down to the front desk to tell us she would be checking out within the hour. But she didn't show, and her room is empty. She was staying on the fourteenth floor, sir."

"Have you checked the security footage?" asked Sedgewick.

"Yes, sir. She definitely got in the elevator, but, after that…"

Sedgewick wiped his brow with his hand, and sighed. "Do exactly as you did before." he said.

"But, sir, shouldn't we alert the po -"

"It is my job," said Walter, "to keep this hotel open. That will not happen if it gets out that our guest are going missing. Now, do as you're told."

Sedgewick turned and walked away, and after a moment's hesitation the employee did too.

Ryan, however, stood still for a minute. He took a deep breath, and walked calmly towards the exit. Once he was outside, however, he starting running.

He ran through the streets of Manhattan, and when he was just a few streets away from the TARDIS, he found what he was looking for.

The Doctor was sitting at a plastic table next to a hot dog cart, laughing with a stoutly man in a greasy apron and a baseball cap. Ryan ran right up to them, and before the Doctor could say a word, he said,

"You want a mystery? I think I've found one."

* * *

_End of Chapter Two._


	3. Chapter 3

The Doctor was beaming with pride. "What did I tell you, Frankie? Eh? Can I pick 'em or what? This is Frankie, by the way. Frankie this is Ryan."

Frankie tipped his cap. "How's it goin', kid?"

"Hi," said Ryan.

"Tourist, you said," laughed the Doctor. "Sightseeing! And what do you come back with? A great big mystery! Ryan Murphy, you're a star! You're a pro!"

"He's a guy." Frankie noted. "Doc, don't you usually travel with the ladies?"

Ryan cocked an eyebrow, and looked at the Doctor. "Does he, now?"

"Err… never mind that," said the Doctor. He grabbed Ryan by the shoulders and grinned again. "Tell us more about this big mystery!"

Ryan smiled, and cleared his throat. "You ready?"

Frankie and the Doctor nodded in unison.

"Lay it on me," said the Doctor.

"Okay," said Ryan, and after a brief pause for effect, he proclaimed, "There is a hotel in New York, with a twelfth floor, a fourteenth floor, but no thirteenth floor!" He smiled and waited for the gasps of shock.

But they never came. What did happen was that the eager smiles gradually melted on the faces of his audience, as Frankie and the Doctor realised that was the end of the story.

"…is that it?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes." said Ryan. "Why?"

The Doctor sighed heavily, and removed his hands from Ryan's shoulders.

"Not many hotels in the world do have a thirteenth floor, kid." said Frankie with a sympathetically smile. "None of the old ones, anyway. They figured it was unlucky. So they just leave it out when they're numbering the buildings. It's still technically the thirteenth floor, but they just call it the fourteenth."

"Oh," said Ryan, quietly embarrassed and more uncomfortable under the Doctor's disappointed eyes than he cared to admit. Then, however, he remembered the other, if slightly less spectacular mystery. "Okay, fine," he said. "Nobody has a thirteenth floor, whatever. But how many hotels have guests that are going missing?"

This time he got the reaction he'd been hoping for. Frankie stared at him for a second, then smirked slightly, and turned to the Doctor.

"Missing people?" the Doctor asked. "Well then. Now you're talking."

* * *

Ryan, Frankie and the Doctor marched through the large revolving doors of _The Ramis Hotel_. They immediately caught the attention of everyone in the lobby; the young kid the manger had been seen screaming at not half an hour before, the small but round guy with a baseball cap on his head and grease stains on his clothes, and the tall, clumsy looking man with the ridiculous hair and bright red bowtie.

It was only a matter of seconds before the staff informed the hotel manager, who was soon striding across the lobby towards them, flanked by two security personnel. Ryan turned to the Doctor.

"So, do we have a plan of any distinction?"

The Doctor was busy, however, trying to force a small black wallet into Frankie's hands, who was evidently unwilling to accept it judging by his attempts to subtly swat it away.

"Just take it," the Doctor hissed out the corner of his mouth, uneager for this mini-spat to be seen by the fast approaching hotel manager.

"No way, last time the cops nearly got me." Frankie shot back.

"It has to be you," said the Doctor urgently. "My New York accent is rubbish."

As Walter Sedgewick and his guards came to a stop in front of them, Frankie seemed to bite his tongue, and took the wallet from the Doctor. Before Walter could even say a patronising word, Frankie stepped forward and held the open wallet up to Sedgewick's face.

"Hey, how ya doin'," he said, with a wide smile, "NYPD. I'm Detective Venkman, this is my partner Detective Smith."

Walter's pencil-moustached face fell, and his air of authority went with it.

"NYPD?" he asked shakily.

"Yes, sir. Is there someplace we can talk?"

"Concerning what, if I might ask."

The Doctor stepped forward, invading Walter's personal space and lowering his voice.

"Concerning the disappearances of your guests, Mr Sedgewick," he said.

A few minutes later, they found themselves in Walter's cushy managerial office. Sedgewick himself was sat behind his desk and dabbing the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief, Frankie sat across from him, notebook and pen in his hand to keep up the charade, The Doctor strolled around the room confidently, while Ryan hang back. He was getting a kind of 'let the grown ups talk' type vibe in the room, so he was content to lean against the back wall and listen.

"It's hard to say when it started," Walter was saying. Even though the secret was out, he was visibly uncomfortable discussing it. "Since the moment they opened the doors, some say" he continued. "Most of the old staff knows about floors twelve and fourteen. The disturbances, I mean. But they've been quiet for years. Up until last night. Andrea Thomas, one of our guests, missed her checkout time. I assumed she was merely recovering from a night on the bottle, nothing new when it came to her. But she couldn't be found anywhere, and she was staying on the twelfth floor. Then today, Carla Dinsmore was supposed to be checking out early, a family emergency or something, and she went missing as well. She was on the fourteenth. That's when I knew it was happening again."

"How many?" the Doctor asked, picking up a 'Manhattan Manager of the Year' award, examining it, and then plopping it back down, slightly harder than necessary.

"I'm sorry?" Walter replied.

"How many people?" said the Doctor irritably.

"I don't know, truthfully. Since I've worked here… 10. Maybe more."

The Doctor momentarily stopped strolling, looking as though he was about to say something, but Frankie sent him a warning look, so he clenched his jaw and resumed his inspection of Walter's office.

"Why didn't you ever tell the Police?" Frankie asked. And when Ryan let out a not-so-discreet cough from the back of the room, he corrected, "Uhh…us. Why didn't you ever tell us?"

"The owners don't like us to even talk about it," said Walter, as though it should have been obvious. "I knew if word ever got out the hotel would be closed immediately, and it is my job to make sure that doesn't happen. It is my job to -"

"Your job is take care of these people while they live in your building." said Ryan suddenly, annoyed by Walter's business-like manner about the serious situation. "Not to cover it up when they vanish without a trace."

The Doctor's mouth curved upwards with a hint of pride. Walter, however, was less impressed.

"Who is this kid? Why is he even involved with this?"

"He's my nephew," said Frankie quickly. "From England." He paused awkwardly. "It's 'Bring Your Foreign Nephew To Work Day'."

Sedgwick frowned. Suspicion starting to creep across his face, so the Doctor quickly made his way over to his desk and flung his arms down on it.

"What happens, though? To the guests? What physically happens, how do they disappear?"

Walter scowled. "If I knew the answer to that question, I wouldn't have a problem now, would I?

"There must be a clue, though," said the Doctor. "Something similar in every disappearance, something that links them together."

"Do you not think such a thing would have occurred to me by now?" Walter spat. "I have done everything in my power to get to the bottom of this -"

"Apart from talking to the people who might actually be able to help," said Ryan.

Sedgewick ignored him. "I have investigated every possible explanation, and found nothing! Because there is no explanation! The guests step into the elevator, and they never step out. Once those doors close, they are never seen again!"

The Doctor stared at Sedgewick. "Elevator?"

"What?"

"The Elevator. All the missing guests, they were last seen in the elevator?"

"Yes," said Sedgewick. "So what?".

The Doctor sighed in exasperation. "There's always an explanation, Mr Sedgewick. Sometimes people just don't want to find it."

With that, he stood up straight and walked out of the room, Ryan and Frankie following. Once alone, Sedgewick slumped into his chair, defeated. In the silence, however, something from earlier returned to him.

He frowned again. "Bring Your Foreign Nephew To Work Day?"

* * *

Ryan and Frankie caught up with the Doctor by the elevators, hunched over and examining the button guests used to call them.

"What do you think?" Frankie asked.

"Dunno," said the Doctor vaguely, focused on the button.

Frankie pressed him. "You must have some idea what's happening?"

"Could be any number of things. 52, if you want to be precise about it. There are exactly 52 known ways of transporting a living person from one point to another without them actually moving. Transmats, temporal shifts, pulley-systems. And that's just assuming the guests get into the lifts and end up somewhere else. They could be getting disintegrated, vaporised, maybe even just plain kidnapped."

"So what you're sayin'," Frankie sighed, "is that you need me to stall more while you figure things out."

The Doctor stood up straight and smiled. "In a nutshell," he nodded.

Frankie shook his head. "One of these days I'm gonna get caught doing this. Last time I checked, NYPD don't take too kindly to hotdog vendors pretending to be cops."

As Frankie walked back towards Sedgewick's office, a 'ding' announced the arrival of the lift and the Doctor quickly stepped in. Ryan didn't follow.

"Going up?" the Doctor asked.

Ryan smiled weakly. "I'll take the next one."

"What's the matter?"

"Why am I wary of getting into the lift you just said could vaporise me? No reason."

The Doctor rolled his eyes impatiently. "If you don't like going to places where there's an outside chance you might get blown up, you're not going to get very far travelling with me. Besides, you've already been in here today and you're still in one piece. Though minus the jacket, which I'm prepared to let slide."

After a few more seconds of hesitation, Ryan reluctantly stepped into the elevator, and the doors drew themselves closed.

Ryan had hoped the Doctor would examine the elevator car as he had done the button panel, but instead he was simply admiring the interior design, rocking slightly on his heels and humming an unfamiliar tune.

"What are you doing?" Ryan asked cautiously.

"Waiting to see if anything tries to take us," the Doctor replied casually.

"I knew it!" said Ryan, and quickly made a move to press the button for the nearest floor so he could escape. The Doctor grabbed his arm.

"Oh, calm down. Nothing's happening, anyway. Which is slightly disappointing." He moved over to the lift's panel of buttons and gave them a closer look.

"I still reckon this has got something to do with the thirteenth floor," said Ryan. "Or lack thereof."

"Will you just let that go?"

"Come on. Guests from the twelfth and fourteenth floor going missing? They're clearly falling into the floor that doesn't exist!"

"It does exist," the Doctor tried to explain. "They just don't call it the thirteenth." He pulled Ryan over to the button panel. "Look, this might say the top floor is 25, but it's actually 24. They just skip the number 13 and…"

He trailed off, and looked away thoughtfully.

"What?" Ryan asked

"There are 25 floors," said the Doctor, surprised even as the words came out of his mouth. "If they miss out the thirteenth, then there's should only be 24, but there's 25, I counted."

"What?" Ryan asked sceptically. "When?"

"Before we came in. I looked up and I counted, and there were definitely 25. So if there's 25 floors when there should only be 24, then there must be a floor that this button panel isn't showing. The thirteenth floor! That must be where the guests are going!"

There was a beat of silence. And then Ryan deadpanned, "Wow. That sounds so familiar."

The Doctor glared at him for a second, then jumped down to his knees and looked at the button panel.

"Now, then," said the Doctor, producing the bronze object Ryan remembered from the Aniline-episode, and pointing it at the panel. "A floor no one knows exists, how is that possible?" The bronze thing glowed green and gave off the same whirring noise Ryan remembered

"What is that?" Ryan was forced to ask. "What are you doing?"

"Scanning."

"I thought it locked and unlocked doors?" Ryan said, remembering how the Doctor had used it to both open the school gates and ensure the reception doors kept the Aniline out.

"It does," said the Doctor.

"It does both?"

"It does everything. A better question is what can't it do. And the answer is program a Sat Nav. No matter how hard you try."

"And the wallet Frankie showed Sedgewick?" Ryan asked. "You carry an NYPD badge around with you?"

The Doctor grinned and shook his head. "Psychic paper. Shows people whatever you want them to see."

Ryan laughed. "Someone's a James Bond admirer."

"I have tools, if that's what you mean," said the Doctor, defensively.

"Where'd you get them all from?" asked Ryan. But before the Doctor could answer, another, far cooler thought occurred to him. "Are they from your planet? Are they alien?"

The Doctor stopped scanning. "Sorry?" he asked quietly.

"Well, you're an alien, aren't you," said Ryan, hoping he hadn't caused any offence. "You said you were from another planet. And you have all this crazy stuff. Did you get it from your home?"

The Doctor gave him a long look that Ryan couldn't quite translate. But he soon returned to scanning the button panel. "Yeah," he said. "Some of it."

Ryan nodded. An uncomfortable silence had somehow seeped into the small elevator car, and when it got too much, Ryan was compelled to say, "We should go there."

The Doctor didn't reply, and again fearing he'd somehow crossed a line, Ryan quickly added, "If that's okay? I mean, there were a lot of stars in that sky. Hard to choose from. So yours would be a good one to start from. Planet of the…"

"Time Lords," the Doctor finished for him, still focused on sonicing. "Gallifrey. Home of the Time Lords."

And Ryan couldn't ignore the Doctor's silence any longer. It was the first time he'd shut up since the moment they met, there must be something wrong. "It's okay, you know, if you don't want to take me there. If humans aren't allowed or something, it's fine. It's cool beans." The Doctor sent him a curious glance, and Ryan cringed at his awful attempt to lighten the mood. He cleared his throat, and tried again. "What I mean is. If you don't want to go -"

"No, it's not that." said the Doctor, sighing heavily and dropping the arm holding the screwdriver. "Trust me, if there's one thing I want, it's to go back there. But it's complica -"

The Doctor didn't get to finish his sentence. Without warning, the lift suddenly jolted to a stop, and with a 'ding', the doors opened, revealing a long, dark hallway.

Ryan looked at the Doctor.

"Is it just me," he said, "or did that 'ding' sound broken to you?"

* * *

_End of Chapter Three._


	4. Chapter 4

"The Thirteenth floor," said the Doctor, reading aloud from the sign hung on the hallway wall.

"What did you do?" Ryan asked.

"Nothing," said the Doctor, inspecting his screwdriver curiously. "I didn't do anything.

He took a first, cautious step out of the lift and onto the floor, the other foot following once he didn't instantly disintegrate. He held the sonic out in front of him like a torch. "Art Deco," he said of the hallway's décor. "Very nice." He glanced over his shoulder where Ryan was still very much in the elevator and not on the floor where people disappeared. "Are you coming or what?"

Ryan hesitated again, giving a passing look to the button that would take him back down to the lobby. Ultimately, though, he chose to follow the mad bloke with the glow-in-the-dark screwdriver. Before he did so, however, Ryan removed his shoe and placed it directly in the middle of the threshold between the elevator and the hallway floor. As soon as he stepped out of the car, the doors attempted to close, but were prevented by the shoe, meaning the lift was forced to remain on the thirteenth floor. When the Doctor looked at him questioningly, he shrugged.

"Rule number 7. Always prepare your exit."

The Doctor smiled. "Ryan Murphy, there might just be hope for you yet."

They carried on down the hall, Ryan quietly pleased to have regained that look of pride.

The Doctor used his sonic to illuminate the many dusty, cobweb-covered doors, with Ryan close behind. He definitely didn't want the Doctor vanishing and leaving him alone in this place. The light coming from the small opening in the elevator was creating strange, misshapen shadows. More than once Ryan jumped in surprise, mistaking them for things they weren't.

"So," he said, eager to distract himself from their surroundings, "do you think Sedgewick was lying to us?"

"No," the Doctor said, dragging his finger across a particularly dusty door and examining the dirt it left on his finger tip. And to Ryan's displeasure, he placed the finger in his mouth and licked it. "Perception filter. Big, massive, perception filter. Hiding the entire thirteenth floor. Poor old Walter thinks he runs a 24 floor hotel. But he doesn't."

"Not even going to ask how you knew that from licking dust," said Ryan, "but okay. Hidden by who? And what for?"

The Doctor shook his head. "Your missing the bigger question."

"Which is?"

"It's daylight back in New York, but night here." He nodded to the end of the hall, where a dark blue sky and pale moonlight could be seen through the window.

"What d'you mean, 'back in New York'?" Ryan asked. "We're still in New York."

The Doctor grinned at him over his shoulder. "Are we?"

And before Ryan could even deal with the possibilities of that question, the Doctor came to a stop outside a random door about halfway down the hallway.

"Now then," he said. "If guests come to this floor and never leave, I think its safe to assume that these doors have something to do with where they go."

"You think they're inside?"

"Only one way to find out."

Slowly, the Doctor raised his hand to the door, and knocked firmly, twice. Then both he and Ryan strained their ears in search of any reply from the other side, but heard nothing.

"Hello?" the Doctor asked. No answer. "Anyone in there?" Again, no response. He turned to Ryan. "Any bright ideas?"

Ryan thought for a moment, knocked again, and called, "Room service?"

The Doctor gazed at him. "That oughta do it, thanks Ryan." Ryan shrugged in a 'worth a go' kind of way. The Doctor just shook his head and pointed his screwdriver at the door handle. "When all else fails…"

The screwdriver whirred and glowed, and with a 'click', the door unlocked. The Doctor looked to Ryan, who nodded to say he was ready, and then he pushed the door open.

Immediately, the both of them jumped back, away from the door, with their hands covering their eyes. The door had unleashed an immensely bright light into the previously dark hallway. Once their eyes adjusted, though, they gazed upon what was inside.

It was not, as Ryan had been expecting, a simple hotel room that was a dusty as the hallway. It wasn't even a room. They were looking, from a distance, at a pyramid-like building, with a stone staircase leading up to it, surrounded by swirling clouds of red.

Ryan felt dizzy. They stood on the same, dusty thirteenth floor, but feet away, across the threshold of the door, was an entirely different, alien world.

"Doctor…" he managed to say. "What is that?"

The Doctor stepped closer to the doorway. Clearly he had not expected to be greeted with this sight either. "It's Premantria," he said, astonished. "A planet a thousand galaxies away."

"Then what the hell is it doing on the other side of a door in New York City?"

The Doctor didn't answer; instead, he soniced the door directly behind them, and kicked it open. Again, there was a blinding flash of light, which eventually revealed a blue mountain under a bright green sky, with trees of fire and purple suns hanging in the sky.

"Morgania," said the Doctor, and without further explanation he opened another door, this time to a storm-beaten world where torrential rain poured down, up, and any other ways it wanted to. "Vrensa," said the Doctor.

He opened another door, another, another, another, each concealing a world where it shouldn't be, a different sky running through all of them.

"I think I've worked out where the guests are going," said the Doctor.

"What for?" Ryan said, blinking to try and steady himself; so many brand new sights at once was making him disoriented. "Why trip humans into other worlds? What's the point?"

The Doctor never got a chance to answer.

There was a 'click' from the very end of the hall. A door had opened by itself, the bright light forcing its way into the hallway. The Doctor walked towards it.

"Doctor…" Ryan warned.

But the Doctor raised a hand to him, and carried on. As he got closer to the door, it started to open further and further. And when he was just a few feet away, the bright light started to take on another colour. One that he hadn't seen for a very long time, but one he'd know anywhere.

It was orange. A deep, burnt orange.

And the second he saw it, he covered his eyes with his arm, and started running.

"_Run!_" he screamed.

Without removing the shield over his eyes, he stormed up the hallway towards Ryan. And to Ryan's disbelief, the orange light coming from the last doorway started to give chase. It was following the Doctor up the corridor.

"Ryan, go! The lift, now!"

Ryan didn't need to be told twice, he bolted to the lift, kicked his shoe out of the way and forced the doors open. The Doctor dived inside before the orange glow could reach him, held his sonic to the button panel and pressed it.

The doors flew closed, and the lift didn't just descend - it plummeted. Ryan was thrown back against the wall, his teeth gritted and his stomach tightening as the elevator car plunged downwards.

Finally, the lift came to a thunderous stop, and he fell forward to the floor. The elevator doors opened again, revealing a lobby full of guests looking at them in wonder.

The Doctor helped him to his feet.

"All in one piece?"

"Just about," Ryan answered.

They stumbled into the lobby, and a few seconds later saw Frankie come running up to them.

"Are you guys trying to blow our cover?" he asked angrily. "I'm doing my best to act all police-like here, but you're scaring the straights!"

"Frankie, we need to get everyone out of here, right now," said the Doctor.

"What are you talking about? Where have you been?"

Ryan gave a shaky laugh. "The hallway of worlds," he replied.

Suddenly there was great '_boom_' from above them, reverberating off the walls of the lobby and followed by the sound of shattering glass. The people inside the lobby started to scream and run for the exit. The Doctor, Frankie and Ryan did the same.

Outside, Ryan stepped on shards of broken glass in a crowd of panicking New Yorkers. He glanced around and, seeing they were all staring up in horror, he did the same.

The Doctor came to stand next to him, looking upward as well. "I think the perception filter might have been forcefully broken."

The thirteenth floor was now very noticeable, mainly because all of its windows had been blown to pieces. Through their shattered remains, a bright light could be seen sweeping through the floor.

"Doctor, what's happening?" Ryan asked.

"Dunno." the Doctor said, looking just as horrified as everyone else. "But I think it's panicking."

"What is?" Frankie said.

The Doctor bit his lip. "Don't know that either," he said, getting frustrated sighs from Ryan and Frankie. "But if its in this hotel, it might be in others."

Frankie looked at him. "Do you know how many hotel there are in this town?"

"Yes," said the Doctor. "That's why we've got to move, now."

He started running, pushing through the crowd, with Ryan and Frankie right behind him, until all three crashed into Walter Sedgewick, who was wild-eyed and accompanied by a group of NYPD cops.

"Hold it!" Walter screeched. "I want these men arrested! Officer, they infiltrated my hotel today impersonating police officers, and this explosion is direct result of it!"

Frankie snarled at him. "You little pencil-moustached grease ball!"

He flung himself at Sedgewick, with the Doctor, Ryan, and the police officers attempting to pull them apart.

In the scuffle, they missed what was happening all around them.

The Doctor was right, it wasn't just _The Ramis Hotel_. It was all of them. At that exact moment in time, every hotel in New York suddenly became aware of their thirteenth floor, because they all exploded at once, making way for a strange, bright light.

* * *

_End of Chapter Four._


	5. Chapter 5

**(A.N.) First let me apologise in advance for how unnecessarily long this chapter is, especially since not a lot happens. The reason it wasn't uploaded earlier was because I've been driving myself crazy trying to fix it, and I'm still not totally happy with it, but I am trying to update these stories quicker. The next chapter will be the last, so I promise to deliver an exciting climax.**

**Also, I'd just like to add that if in some crazy fantasy land this was an actual episode of Doctor Who, I would cast Tina Fey as the Mayor. Because she's awesome. :)**

* * *

The police car hit a bump in the road, and in the backseat Ryan's head bounced painfully against the window. On instinct, he tried to bring a hand to it, only to be reminded that he was currently wearing handcuffs.

He glared at the man sitting by the opposite window. "Time Travel, I was told. Running across the Universe. A gap year in space! I can't help but notice, Doctor, you sort of left out the bit where _I get arrested_."

"Yeah," said Frankie, who was squeezed in-between Ryan and the Time Lord. "He does that."

The Doctor rolled his eyes, turning away from his companions' disgruntled gazes and instead looked out of the window. Outside, Police Officers were trying to move members of the general public as far away as possible from any hotels. The New Yorkers, understandably panicked by the explosions heard throughout the city, were demanding to know what was going on, and the Police didn't have any answers, resulting in a little bit of chaos on the streets of Manhattan.

"Next time you hand me that psychic paper," grumbled Frankie, "I'm gonna tell you to shove it up your -"

The Doctor turned to him quickly. "Oi! Watch it! That one's only 17."

"Yeah, don't swear in front of me," Ryan nodded. "I mean, get me arrested, sure. But we draw the line at swearing!"

"Oh, will you let that go!" the Doctor replied angrily.

"Soon as we get out of this, we're going back in time and making sure this never happened," Ryan told him.

"Don't be ridiculous, that could destroy all of space and time!"

"_Sod space and time, I__'__m going to be the one getting destroyed if my Mum finds _

_out about this!_"

The car screeched to a stop. The officers got out of the front seat, and came around to open the doors for their passengers.

The Doctor stepped out of the car and looked up at the grand building they'd pulled up outside of.

"Well," he said. "Local jails have certainly had a re-furb since the last time I was arrested."

"That ain't a jailhouse, Doc," Frankie sighed. "It's City Hall."

To their surprise, the cops started un-cuffing them, and then leading them up the steps of the building.

"Sorry," asked Ryan, "why are we at City Hall, exactly?"

The officer held open the doors for them, and said, "Beats me, kid. All I know is I got orders to take you straight to the Mayor's office."

* * *

Mayor Emma Greene; who at the age of 37 was both the youngest and first female Mayor in the city's history; walked into her historic office armed with one simple question.

"What - _the hell_ - is going on?"

The office, consisting of six of her official advisors as well as a propped up map of Manhattan, went quiet. The advisors sent each other nervous, unwilling glances, until one of them finally stepped forward and cleared his throat.

"Well, your honour, at present we're attempting to corroborate the various reports and piece them together to create a clear picture of -"

The Mayor shook her head and held up a hand. "No. Stop talking," she said, turning instead to the young woman sitting quietly next to the other advisors. "You. What's your name?"

"Sarah," said the woman, surprised.

"Sarah. Go," said the Mayor. "And cut the political crap, save it for when you're writing my speeches," she said, with a quick look to the first advisor.

"Oh," said Sarah, quickly rushing to her feet and walking to the stand holding the map, which had been covered with markers. "These are all the buildings that suffered explosions. Hotels, all of them. We don't have any reported casualties yet, just a few minor injuries. And Police are trying to clear the surrounding streets."

The Mayor walked over to her desk and sat on top of it, straightening her glasses as she studied the map in front of her. "How big of explosions? Are we talking collapsing buildings here or what?"

"No," said Sarah. She paused, and chose her next words carefully. "The buildings are fine. The explosions happened on the thirteenth floor, in all the hotels. But the floors directly above and below them, they're all fine."

The Mayor looked at her questioningly. Sarah glanced to the other advisors, who each found something interesting to look at on the other side of the room.

"We tried to send fire-fighters up there to take a look," said Sarah bravely, "but the floors seems to have sealed themselves." She took a deep breath, and then quickly rambled, "And now there's this weird white light coming from all of them, and nobody knows what is, and it's starting to freak people out."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," said the Mayor, standing up off her desk. "When did I become Mayor of the Twilight Zone? What do you mean white light? And wait a second, I didn't think any of the old hotels had thirteenth floors."

Sarah bit her lip. "They didn't. Until about half an hour ago."

The Mayor gaped at every one of the advisors, who gulped in fear. "So to sum up," she said, voice rising. "A bunch of hotels had explosions on floors that they don't actually have, which we now can't get into, and they are also projecting some kind strange light?"

"Basically, yeah," said Sarah quietly.

"What?" the Mayor yelled, causing the advisors flinch in fright. "No! Not 'basically, yeah'! You can't just stand there and say 'basically, yeah'!" She pointed to the red phone sitting on her desk. "In about ten minutes I'm gonna get a call from the President of these United States, and if he asks me if I'm letting this city go straight to hell, am I supposed to tell him 'basically, yeah'? You are my advisors, you're supposed to know what's going on _so that you can advise me how to fix it! _But you don't know who did this, you don't know why they did it, you don't even how they did it!"

The man who had spoken earlier stepped forward again. "Your honour, the identity and motive of the perpetrators in questions may be unclear at this present time but rest assured-"

"No," the Mayor snapped, pointing at the man dangerously. "You are not allowed to talk from now on!"

The advisors were spared any further tirade by the door to the Mayor's office flying open and, along with the sounds of a hectic City Hall, a group of people came streaming in. Amongst them were members of both the New York Police and Fire Department, along with a hotdog vendor, a kid with one shoe, and a guy wearing a bowtie.

"Hi! Come on in, join the party!" said the Mayor dryly. She turned to the Doctor, Frankie and Ryan. "I take it you're the guys they arrested outside the first hotel to explode?"

"Yes, your honour," said Frankie, "And may I say it's a pleasure to meet you ma'am. I'm proud to say I voted for you in the last election."

Mayor Greene nodded and gave a tight smile. "I appreciate that. Now where's this other guy? Sedgewick, Sodgewack…?"

"I am Walter Sedgewick, your honour!" said Walter, entering the room and pushing his way to the front of the crowd that now stood in the Mayor's office. "And please allow me to explain the entire situation."

"This oughta be good," Frankie murmured.

"Earlier today these men barged into my hotel impersonating Police Officers, a jail worthy offence in itself. They then proceeded to present me with slanderous allegations that have no truth to them whatsoever. And then, while the fat one distracted me -"

"Whoa!" shouted Frankie. "Uncalled for!"

"- the other two went upstairs to one of my hotel floors where I have no doubt they planted one of the bombs which have since been going off all over the city!"

"The reason this city is blowing up," said Frankie with intense scorn, "is because this idiot, with his ridiculous excuse for a moustache, has been keeping a very big secret about his precious hotel that you might also consider a jail worthy offence!"

"They caused the explosions!" Walter yelled, beginning to turn red with anger.

The Mayor turned to Ryan and the Doctor. "Is this true?" she asked.

The Doctor sighed. "Yes, it's true. As moustaches go, it's pretty ridiculous. I mean, it doesn't even look real."

There was a beat, and then Walter suddenly dived at the Doctor. The cops and firemen scrambled to pull him off and drag him over to the other side of the room, away from the Doctor. The Mayor was not pleased.

"You think this is funny, bowties? Come here." The Doctor followed her over to the map of New York, vaguely wondering why each of the advisor's eyes seemed to be screaming at him to run. "I got buildings blowing themselves up, and then shutting themselves down. I got strange white lights starting to make people panic, and I got a team of advisors who aren't doing a whole lot of advising. The only thing I don't have, is a penis."

The room turned silent. The Doctor's face went pale. "I'm sorry?" he meekly asked.

The Mayor stepped in close to him. "I am the first female Mayor in the history of this city. So while you're cracking funnies and starting fights on the street, I got every sexist, idiotic, bigoted political commentator out there just waiting to use this as a prime example of why women shouldn't be in positions of power. They'll write extremely long articles about how my failure to protect this city was directly related to me getting my period."

Ryan had to hide his smile at the Doctor's reaction. He cleared his throat nervously, looking to Ryan and Frankie for help as he stuttered, "W-well, I… I hear those are v-very difficult times for a … lady person."

The Mayor shook her head in exasperation. She walked back around desk and turned her gaze onto Frankie, Ryan and Sedgewick too. "You wanna know what I think, fellas? I think one of you geniuses knows what's going on here. So somebody better start talking, or I'm gonna start throwing life sentences around."

The Doctor, ignoring the awkwardness he was plagued by whenever human's spoke about their nether regions, approached the Mayor's desk and attempted to get a handle on the situation.

"Look. You know how we always thought hotels didn't have thirteenth floors because people were superstitious? Well they weren't, and they did, and they always have. The Thirteenth floors have just been… hidden. It's my fault, really," he said, beginning to talk very quickly and expecting everyone to keep up. "I should've realised. You humans, you love making up stories to scare yourselves with, but they always have some basis in fact. And I've been hearing ghost stories about the Thirteenth Floor for years now. I should have known they weren't just stories."

The Mayor dropped into her chair and threw out her hands pleadingly. "For the love of God, someone start making sense!"

Frankie attempted to come to the rescue. "Y'see, your honour, something's been hiding on these thirteenth floors for a long time now. And it's been taking people. It's been preying on hotel guests for years, and it's been getting away with it because of idiots like him," Frankie pointed an accusatory finger at Sedgewick, who glared back, "keeping it under wraps to save their jobs."

"Wait a second," said the Mayor, "What do you mean by 'thing'? You're talking like it's the boogeyman."

"Mayor, please," said the Doctor sardonically. "It's not the boogeyman. It's a highly intelligent alien entity that can project images of other planets."

The Mayor looked at him for a second, then removed her glasses so that they wouldn't get in the way of her massive faceplam.

Walter sent them a smug smile, and the Doctor and Frankie looked to be out of ideas. Ryan, who had again been attempting to let the older and seemingly more mature people sort this out, finally gave in and pushed Frankie and the Doctor out of the way so that he could speak to Mayor Greene.

"Look, your Mayorness," he said, while the Mayor cocked an un-amused eyebrow. "I know it sounds mental and is hard to believe. Especially coming from this guy." He gestured to the Doctor. "Between the bowtie, the braces, and that ridiculous mess he calls hair, I can see how you might be sceptical. I was too. But then I went for a walk on one of these hotel floors, and I nearly fell into another planet!"

Walter let out a dramatic sigh and also came to stand in front of the Mayor. "Your honour, please. This is ridiculous." he said, staring at the other men in disdain. "You really expect the Mayor of New York City to believe there are aliens living in our hotels?"

"This is New York!" Ryan pointed out. "Surely weirder things have happened."

"Yes!" said the Doctor, suddenly seeing an opening. "They have, haven't they, Mayor?"

The Mayor raised her chin and kept her face neutral. "I don't know what your talking about," she said, with her best poker face.

"Oh, I think you do," said the Doctor. "You've had events like this before. Events you can't explain. Only on those occasions, you had matters taken out of your hands." The Mayor looked at him, her eyes narrowing behind the thick rims of her glasses. The Doctor smiled. He'd touched a nerve. "How many times have 'higher authorities' came in here and cut you out of the picture? Organisations like UNIT, Torchwood? They'll turn a few of those lovely chestnut locks grey before you leave this job."

"So," said Ryan, doing his best to follow the Doctor's lead. "You can believe Mr Sodgewack -"

"My name is Sedgewick," an affronted Walter cut in.

"- or you can believe that this city is heading for a disaster of extra-ordinary proportions."

"What do you mean 'extra-ordinary'?" the Mayor said in frustration.

"He's talking about alien attacks, Mayor!" Frankie yelled.

"Exploding buildings!" Ryan shouted. "Other worlds crossing into our own!"

"Floors you didn't know you had appearing out of nowhere!" the Doctor added. "White lights giving everyone migraines! Extremely powerful beings panicking and crushing this whole city because of it!"

"Enough, I get the point!" the Mayor said. She stood up from her chair and stared at all four men in front, stopping when she came to the Doctor. It was true, she had seen enough unexplained events in her short time in office to be open minded. But she still gazed at him in uncertainly. "What if you're wrong?"

"I'm we're wrong, nothing happens," the Doctor shrugged. "We go to jail. We'll love it, it'll be peaceful, we'll catch up on our reading. But if we're right, and we can stop this thing…" And to the Mayor's surprise, he smiled at her. "Emma. You will have saved the lives of all of those bigoted political commentators. And they'll stick that in their articles and write about it."

Frankie, Ryan and Walter turned to the Mayor, waiting for her reaction. For a few seconds, she continued to look at the Doctor with apparent contempt. And then, the very corner of her mouth curved upwards for the smallest, tiniest of smirks.

"Your honour…" said Walter hoarsely. "Please! Please tell me you aren't actually considering listening to this man."

The Mayor turned her gaze to him, and then glanced to the Police officers at the back of the room.

"Take this man into questioning," she said, pointing to Sedgewick. "Ask him what he knows about whatever caused those explosions."

The officers rushed forward and began leading Walter out of the room by the elbows.

"No," said Walter, weakly attempting to break free of the officer's grasps. "No! I was only doing my job! I was only doing my job!" He sent a look of pure hatred to Frankie, Ryan and the Doctor, who smiled and waved at him as he was dragged out of the office.

"Bye, now!" Frankie called after him.

"Settle down," said the Mayor, sitting behind her desk again. "We've got work to do. Now, what do you need from me?"

* * *

In no time at all, Ryan was being marched down a Manhattan street littered with debris, flanked by Police Officers and soldiers. There were barricades at the every end of the street, where guards were tasked with keeping the public back. Up ahead, the Mayor was briefing the Doctor, while he and Frankie followed behind.

"If you get in trouble, I've got the National Guard on standby, but you get in, do whatever it is you're gonna do, and you get the hell out. You have ten minutes, understand?" the Mayor asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "I'll need at least thirty."

"Fifteen," replied the Mayor.

"Done."

They came to a stop in front of _The Ramis Hotel_, and each of them cast their eyes up to the floor that didn't technically exist, the unearthly white light pulsating through what was left of it's walls.

"Just out of curiosity," said the Mayor, minus the autocratic tone Ryan had come to expect from her, "how exactly were entire hotel floors hidden from us?"

"A perception filter," the Doctor answered. "A massive one. Big enough to fool even me, and I'm nobodies fool." He tugged on his tweed jacket importantly. The Mayor sent a unconvinced glance over her shoulder, where Ryan and Frankie simply shrugged. "But the thing about perception filters is they're only 99.9% effective at best. You can dupe as many people as you want, dashing Time Lords included. But sooner or later," he turned to Ryan, and gave him a small smile, "someone will clock on."

"I may not be dashing," said Ryan, "but I'm clever enough to know 14 doesn't follow 12."

"I think you're very dashing," said the Doctor, before smirking and adding, "for a man with one shoe, anyway."

Frankie looked at Ryan's feet. "Yeah, I think I missed that part. What's with the one shoe exactly?"

"Long story," said Ryan, his expression turning sour. "I lost it in a lift."

"Sarah!" the Mayor yelled suddenly. "Get this kid a shoe!" She turned to Frankie. "You, hotdog man. You stay down here, you can prepare my soldiers for what they'll be up against if they have to go in." Frankie attempted to protest but the Mayor had already switched her gaze to Ryan. "Can't say I'm happy about the kid going up. I hope your Mom's given you parental consent to run about with this lunatic?"

"Oh, yeah," Ryan lied. "She doesn't think I'm back in England picking up A-Level results or anything."

The Mayor looked at him quizzically. He felt someone tap on his shoulder, and saw the pretty advisor from the Mayor's office was standing next to him, holding out a trainer shoe.

"Oh," said Ryan happily. "Thank you very much."

"You're welcome," said Sarah brightly, and the two of them shared a shy smile.

"I'm sorry," the Mayor interjected, "Ryan, have you met Sarah? Sarah this is Ryan. Maybe you two can go out on a date._ When the world isn't ending!_"

Sarah jumped, mumbled an apology, and went back to work. The Mayor turned her worried eyes to the Doctor, and Ryan saw them drifting inevitably to his bowtie.

"Please tell me you know what you're doing?" she asked. "You have a plan?"

"Of course I do," the Doctor replied firmly. "You've made the right decision, your honour. I'll take care of everything."

She nodded grudgingly. "You," she said to Frankie. "With me."

Frankie and the Mayor walked away, leaving the Doctor and Ryan alone. Ryan anxiously looked up at the thirteenth floor, and the abnormal white light.

"Do you know what you're doing?" Ryan asked.

The Doctor shook his head. "Not even slightly."

"Do you have a plan of any kind?"

"Not remotely."

"Is it always like this with you?"

"I'm afraid so."

Ryan nodded feebly. "Suddenly Uni doesn't seem so bad anymore."

The Doctor grinned at him. "Geronimo!"

They walked through the large, revolving doors into the deserted lobby, and towards the elevators.

* * *

_End of Chapter Five._

* * *

**(A.N.) If anyone's interested, I wrote a Harry Potter/Doctor Who crossover story recently. It's called "That Which Holds The Image", and the link is in my profile. *shameless plug* :D**


	6. Chapter 6

**(A.N.) I decided to split the last chapter into two, so I'll post the second part later in the week. It will be only be short, really just wrapping things up, but together this document would have 15 pages long, which I thought was a bit much.**

* * *

"Those planets we saw," said the Doctor. "All those different worlds in the hallway. They aren't real. Just projections."

He jumped off the couch he been testing the bounciness of, and continued strolling about the lobby. Ryan stood in the centre of the room, examining the mess that the explosions and subsequent lobby evacuation had caused. He briefly wondered if the Doctor was talking directly to him, or just generally speaking aloud.

"They were images designed to lure people up to thirteenth floor," the Doctor continued, stepping over the remains of an expensive vase. "That white light; it's a loading beam. A placeholder while the alien, whatever it is, searches for the right planet. The right sky." He paused fleetingly and added, "The right shade of orange."

Ryan looked at him, recognising that same weird silence from earlier. A second later, though, and the Doctor was speaking again as though the moment hadn't happened.

"See, this building's thirteenth floor isn't really New York anymore. This alien entity, this projector, has fully inhabited that area of space. That's why its dark up there. The projector doesn't want daylight, so the floor doesn't get any."

They reached the far side of the lobby, coming to stand in front of the elevators, when the Doctor suddenly turned to him expectantly.

"Does that answer your question?"

Ryan frowned. "Doctor, I didn't ask a question. You just sort of started rambling and I didn't bother to stop you."

"Oh," said the Doctor. "Well. Thank you. I hate when people stop my rambling."

Ryan rolled his eyes and focused on the more pressing problem. "How exactly are we going to get up there, can I ask? The Mayor said the floors have sealed themselves, whatever that means. How does a floor seal itself?"

The Doctor looked at him irritably. "I just told you! This alien entity doesn't just live on the thirteenth floor, it _is_ the thirteenth floor. It can turn the floor into an all-you-can-eat Sushi bar if it wants to. Sealing the doors is easy. But what you're forgetting, Ryan Murphy, is that we already have a way up there!"

He gestured to the elevators in front of him and smiled proudly.

"Well, yeah," said Ryan. "The only problem being that you don't even remember what you did to make the lift take us up there the first time around."

The Doctor balked. "Excuse me! I remember every single thing I did in this lift perfectly! I just don't know which one of those things actually made it go up."

Ryan sighed as the Doctor soniced the lift doors open and together they stepped back inside the elevator car. Ryan almost tripped over something he'd left behind.

"Hey," he said in delight. "My shoe!"

He hurriedly took off the odd shoe Sarah had given him and replaced it with his old one.

"Great, you've got your shoe back," said the Doctor, "Shall we just call this a success and go home?" He turned back to the buttons, ignoring Ryan's glare. "Now, if I repeat everything I did before, then logic says we'll be on the thirteenth floor in no time."

Ryan watched as the Doctor attempted to replicate every move he'd made the last time they'd stood in the elevator. He poked and prodded where he had done before, soniced what he'd soniced earlier, skated across the floor until he found his prior feet placements, and tuned his voice like a radio so he could find the pitch he'd previously spoke in. And when none of that worked, he tried it all again.

And again.

Finally, he stepped back from the button panel in defeat.

"I hate logic," he grumbled. "It's always lying to me."

"Well, we tried," said Ryan, making a move for the exit. "I suppose we'll have to let the army and the fire brigade and the other professionals sort it out."

But the Doctor pulled him back, circling an arm around his shoulder.

"Ryan, I'm afraid I'm going to need your fresh perspective again."

"No," Ryan groaned. "My perspective isn't fresh. It's completely unfresh. Its past its expiry date. My perspective is stinking up the fridge!"

But the Doctor wasn't listening. "What happened? Last time we were in here. Try and think back, just before the lift moved, can you think of anything of note that I did?"

"Yes, you were leading me head first into danger and ignoring my sacrasm-disguised fear," Ryan replied. "Oh, look you're doing it again."

"Okay," said the Doctor, in a softer tone this time. "Yes, there's a big, bad alien up there. Yes, its dangerous, and scary. I'm scared too, even after all this time. But if we don't go up there and try to stop it, then this brilliant and historic city will be blown to pieces."

Ryan made a face and looked away, but nodded for the Doctor to continue.

"Think back," he said. "Is there anything you can remember? Anything at all?"

Ryan shrugged. "Well. I mean, I don't know whether it's got anything to do with anything but… you did get all quiet when I asked about your home."

From his face, it was clear that wasn't what the Doctor had been expecting. "My home?" he said quietly. Once more that loaded silence was rearing its ugly head, and Ryan was about to talk just to fill the void, when the Doctor suddenly hit himself in the head with his sonic screwdriver.

"Homes!" he cried, and then beamed at Ryan. "Oh, Ryan Murphy, I am most definitely keeping you! That's twice now you've caught the vital thing I've missed. I mean, it's blind luck, of course, you're just saying whatever floats into that television-warped brain of yours, but still!"

Ryan glared at him again. "I think that started as a compliment…"

"_Homes!_" said the delighted Doctor again, turning back to the button panel. "Right then, it probably won't work if I do it again; it knows I'm a troublemaker. So that only leaves you."

Ryan's face fell. "What about me?"

"What about you, indeed," said the Doctor; putting his sonic away, folding his arms and leaning back against the elevator wall. "Where's home for you?"

Ryan stared at him. He was very poorly attempting to create a calm and relaxed atmosphere, and Ryan didn't like it. "You know exactly where my home is. You crashed your time machine right into the middle of it, remember?"

"No," said the Doctor dismissively. "That was a place. Tell me about your _home_. I never asked, who do you live with?"

"My mum and dad," Ryan replied.

"Brothers and sisters?"

Ryan shook his head. "No."

"Bit lonely," the Doctor mused.

"Not really. My Aunt Beth only lives a few streets away, so I grew up playing with my cousins." He smiled when a long-forgotten memory came floating back to him. "See, my Mum and Dad, they're not exactly cooking-people, so we used to go round to my Auntie's for Sunday roast. And afterward, me and my cousins would take a footy out onto the field and have a kick about. This was back before spaceships started crashing in it."

"Ah," the Doctor smiled. "Of course."

"Yeah," said Ryan. He gradually realised that it had been a very long time since he'd thought about those days. Come to think of it, he hadn't spoken to his cousins in a few months either, despite living so close. He supposed he'd been caught up with exams, and preparing for Uni. Such distractions didn't exist when they were kids. Back then, the biggest problems were arguments over who would be in goal, or legging it when they accidentally kicked the ball through someone's window. Back then, they didn't have a care in the world.

And just for a second, a tiny part of him wished he could turn back the clock, and…

Suddenly, the lift doors drew themselves closed, and the elevator car begin to rise upwards, towards the thirteenth floor. Ryan turned to the Doctor.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing," said the Doctor, with a knowing smile. "This time it was all you."

The broken 'ding' sounded and the doors opened onto the long, dark corridor. At the end of the hall, the same starless-black sky could be seen coming through the now broken windows, which were not the only things showing signs of the explosion. All along the hallway, the walls had been wounded with cracks and holes, from which the silky white glow was escaping, coming together to create a thin, unearthly mist. The same glow could be seen pulsating through the cracks in between the door frames, which themselves were trembling and creaking, as though straining to stay on their hinges.

"I don't understand," said Ryan, swallowing as his eyes roamed across the chilling sight before him.

"And I should have understood earlier," said the Doctor, taking out his sonic again. "I'm getting on a bit, I apologise. Anyway, it's all about homes."

Calmly yet cautiously, he began walking down the corridor. Ryan followed behind, vaguely aware that for some reason, he couldn't take his eyes off of a door about halfway down the hall, one which seemed to be trying extra hard to stay closed.

"Andrea Thomas," said the Doctor, sonicing some random doors as he passed and checking the readings. "Sedgewick said she was the first to go missing. Or the most recent anyway. In town on business. Has a late night, bit worse for wear, maybe even a lot worse for wear. I bet she got in that lift and just wished she be back in her room and asleep. And I bet she travelled on business a lot. Hotel rooms were probably the closest thing to a home she had."

"And the other woman?" Ryan asked. "Carla-something?" He knew the Doctor was about to come to her, but he had asked in an attempt to shift his focus to something other than the door that they were gradually getting closer to, or the silky light coming from inside it. Which, he realised, was actually quite lovely really.

"Dinsmore. Carla Dinsmore. I never forget a name." The Doctor threw him a smile over his shoulder, but stopped when he saw Ryan rubbing his suddenly bleary eyes. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," said Ryan quickly; changing the subject even quicker. "So what about her?"

The Doctor eagerly jumped back into his explanation. "She was checking out early. Family emergency. Most likely somebody died. She stepped into the lift to go back to her room and pack her things, but she probably also had a bit of cry, and wished she could be back home with her family. Which brings us to me." Ryan might have noticed that solemn tone return to the Doctor's voice, if he hadn't been completely transfixed on the door that he was just about in front of. "You got me thinking about my home. Made me picture it in my mind. And suddenly the lift was taking me to a hallway full of alien planets, until it eventually found mine. Or a nice imitation of it anyway."

By this point, Ryan wasn't listening. The only thing he could hear was the pumping of blood in his ears, and the little voice in his head remarking on how gorgeous the light was. When they finally reached the door, which was now starting to splinter in its attempts to stay closed, the Doctor passed it by, continuing down the hall. But Ryan stopped.

The light was calling to him, reminding him of so many things, so many wonderful memories. Like those Sundays. Those roast dinners and games of football on the field. He moved towards it, held out his arm, reached for the handle…

The Doctor was still talking, oblivious to what was going on right behind him. "It waits for people who long for their home," he said. "Then it takes them up here, and lures them through the doors with images of the place they want to be more than anything, but can't get to." He waited a few seconds, and when he didn't get the response he was expecting, he turned around impatiently. "This is the bit where you go 'But what it's all for, Doctor?', and I say…"

His words left him when he saw Ryan, blank eyes, stumbling towards a door that was gushing with the ghostly white light. His hand was inches from the handle, but evidently the door wasn't willing to wait that extra nanosecond. There was a click, and a creak, and the door started to open.

"_Ryan!_"

The Doctor leapt towards him, wrapping his hands around Ryan and holding him to his chest. Ryan struggled feebly, his mouth hanging open and his eyes blinded by the light.

"Ryan," said the Doctor. "Ryan, can you hear me? Listen, let's move away from the door, eh? Let's just move back."

But Ryan had no intentions of doing any such thing. He started to struggle harder, digging his elbows into the Doctor's sides. The Doctor pulled as hard as he could, trying with all his might to pull Ryan back towards the elevator. And he may have been able to, if the light coming from the doorway hadn't swirled into something else.

Now they were looking at fields of grass under a bright blue sky, where children's laughter filled the air. The Doctor recognised it instantly as the field he'd crashed the TARDIS into, and the one Ryan had been speaking about earlier. Ryan obviously recognised it too, because he started to fight against the Doctor with renewed vigour. He was kicking at the Doctor's feet, trying to drive the back of his head into the Doctor's face, anything that would make him free to dive headfirst into that Sunday from long ago.

The Doctor knew he wouldn't be able to hold him for long and found himself looking around the corridor desperately.

"Is this what you do?" he yelled. "You lure people up here with images of their home, and then use it against them?"

There was no response, not that he was really expecting one. The light simply continued to bleed out of the cracks and holes and into the hallway.

"So come on then. Tell me! What's it all for? What's worth this much innocent life?"

Ryan was thrashing like a madman, and the Doctor wasn't going to be able to keep hold for much longer.

"Is it power? Are you using them as food? Perhaps you need human DNA for something? Or maybe there's no reason at all, and you're just doing this because you're really _evil_."

Instantly, every inch of the white light in the entire hallway rushed away and disappeared. The image of the perfect Sunday evaporated, and the door swung closed. Ryan, suddenly released, fell limp with exhaustion and both he and the Doctor fell to the floor.

"Ryan?" the Doctor said, checking Ryan's pulse. His companion murmured something incomprehensible to show he was still, in fact, alive. The Doctor let out a sigh of relief, which hitched in his chest when he felt the glow of white light fall across his face.

He looked up, unsure of what he'd see. But when he laid his eyes on the source of the light, all he could say was, "…Oh."

Hanging in front of the Doctor, twinkling in the otherwise pitch black hallway, was the last thing the Doctor had expected to see. The light was no longer pouring out of every available hole in the corridor. Instead, it had compressed itself back into its true form. A tiny, swirling beam of silky white that twisted and curled within itself, creating infinite circles within infinite circles.

"…Hello," said the Doctor softly. He couldn't help the laugh that escaped him. "Look at you! Do you know, I've never seen actually seen a Zaubern up close. I've only read about you in books." He gazed at the alien for a few more seconds in joyous fascination, before forcing himself back on topic. "And I've read enough to know this is the last place in the Universe I should find you. You should be back home with about a billion brothers and sisters. Maybe even the odd Isolus cousin. What are you doing here?"

In response, a beam of light broke off from the eternal circling stream that made up the Zaubern, flying at a door to the Doctor's left. The door flung open, and the light filled the doorway. The Doctor took a cautious step back on instinct, but fortunately the light didn't create a hypnotising image of his own home. Rather, he found himself looking at a planet hanging in space, that shone as brightly as the Zaubern itself. A red sun shimmered behind it.

"Ah," said the Doctor. "Visual aids. Lovely. See, that's where you should be. What are you doing he -"

Suddenly the Doctor's eyes were blinded. The glowing planet he'd been looking at was now ablaze, and the shimmering sun had disappeared. The image was so powerful, he could feel the supernova's heat - simulated, yet nonetheless intense - washing over him. It was a sight he'd seen far too many times in his long life.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he said gravely. "I am so very, very sorry. Were you the only survivor?"

The burning planet in the doorway quickly swirled into the Zaubern falling to Earth, alone.

The Doctor sighed. "For whatever it's worth," he said, "I know what its like to lose your home. Of course, I can't even begin to imagine what you've gone through. After all, your species couldn't bare to be away from their native planet for very long. You lived off the…" He turned away from the projection, and looked at the Zaubern. "Oh, no. No, no, no, no, please! Please, tell me I'm wrong."

The Zaubern continued to twinkle and twist in front of the Doctor. He took the lack of response as confirmation and turned away in despair.

"No!" he seethed. "You stopped when I called you evil, because you didn't understand. How old are you? Are you even mature enough to know what you've been doing?"

The image in the doorway faded again, replaced by various versions of the same event: humans being led towards a door on the thirteenth floor. The door would open, and the person's face would turn from a look of horror to pure elation as they came face to face with whatever they considered home. But then the light would shine brighter and brighter, and the person would begin to shake and convulse. And then they were obliterated. The Doctor could only assume that the last two women he saw suffering through this fate were Andrea Thomas and Carla Dinsmore.

"Human beings aren't like you," he said, his voice attempting to remain calm but teetering dangerously close to rage. "The feeling of one's home, they don't need that like you do. They don't breath off that emotion like your race does. They can't produce the levels of it that you're feeding off, because they don't have the capacity for it. So when you amplify their joy like you've been doing, you're pushing them past their limits! Don't you understand?"

The Zaubern changed the image in the doorway back to its home world, and of a billion Zaubern living in harmony in their native land.

"No," the Doctor shook his head. "That's not what you're giving them. You thrive off that feeling; you produce that emotion at enormous levels. Human beings don't. You're burning them up! You're killing them!"

The Zaubern's glow dimmed ever so slightly, the first sign that it was beginning to understand the true consequences of its actions. The Doctor took pity, and lowered his voice to a more sympathetic tone.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know what you've lost, and I know how you must ache for that feeling. But this stops, now."

Suddenly, the Zaubern shone brighter than ever. The twisting circles in front of him spread apart, and suddenly every door on the entire floor flew open, and the light burst through them.

"Wait," said the Doctor, shielding his eyes. "Just calm down!"

But the Zaubern was panicking again. The doorways were filled with a flurry of projections, a million different homes, from this planet and beyond. The Doctor tried to steady himself, but the entire hallway was trembling, fresh cracks and holes splitting through the walls.

"Please," the Doctor cried. "Just listen to me!"

He felt something moving past his ankles and looked down to see Ryan trying to crawl towards the doorway in front of him, which was again posing as the field from his childhood.

The Doctor dropped to his knees and grabbed Ryan around the waist. Again, Ryan fought and clawed to get free.

"Don't do this!" the Doctor shouted. "I know how you've suffered. I've lost my own planet. I've lost my home! But this is not the way to deal with it. We have to accept it, we have to move…"

The projections in the doorways stopped alternating. They all stopped on the same image, and soon the corridor was shining with a bright, burnt orange.

The Doctor threw his arms over his face, but immediately felt Ryan make a break for the doorway. He quickly grabbed him again and instead buried his eyes in Ryan's back. But it didn't matter.

He could still feel it, all around him. The silver leaves rusting in the wind, the second sun rising in the south, and that cool, mid-summer Gallifrean air.

"Please," he begged, shedding any illusions of authority and power and breaking down completely. "Please don't. I don't want to see it. I can't, not again. Please don't show it to me."

Just as the Doctor clenched his eyes shut and prepared for the worst, everything stopped. The orange sky faded from view and the doors swung closed.

The Doctor looked up to see the Zaubern, having reverted to its swirling form, hanging in front of him again. Somehow, he knew why it had stopped. It didn't understand.

"My home is gone," he said. "An impersonation of it won't change that. Nothing will. And if you carry on, you're only inflicting your own pain on others. The only thing we can do is remember what we've lost, and move on. Trust me, it's the only course of action with any sense to it."

The Zaubern's glow grew faint again, and it slowly pulled away from the Doctor.

Beside him, Ryan started to stir.

"Doctor?" he moaned.

"Ryan! Back with us, fantastic."

"Yeah," he said, sitting up with difficulty. "What's happening again?"

"Nothing much," said the Doctor. "You nearly killed yourself, and then you started kicking me when I tried to stop you."

"Oh," said Ryan mildly. "Okay, listen, this might be a side-effect of recently regaining consciousness or something, but it sort of looks like the floor is disappearing."

The Doctor's head shot downwards, where the carpeted floor they sat on was indeed fading from view. He looked back to the Zaubern. Not only was it fading as well, it seemed to be drawing the floor that it had inhabited into oblivion with it.

"Wait!" he said, rushing to his feet. "No, this isn't the answer either. You can't just give up!

Ryan climbed to his feet as well, using the wall as help, until his hand passed through into nothingness. The entire corridor was about to vanish into thin air, and the only solid-looking thing left was the elevator at the end of the hall.

"Doctor," he said. "Come on, we've got to go!"

But the Doctor didn't move. "You can't just give up!" he screamed at the Zaubern, as its twisting circles started to unravel and evaporate. "You're all that's left; you're the only survivor and you have to go on. We have to go on! Please, listen to me!"

"Doctor!" Ryan said. He could feel his feet starting to dip as the floor dissolved beneath them. The Doctor showed no signs of moving anytime soon, so Ryan grabbed him by the arm and dragged him to the elevator.

"No, Ryan," said the Doctor. "We have to stop it. We can't just let it -"

But too late. No sooner had Ryan pulled him into the elevator, than the Zaubern imploded before their very eyes, taking the thirteenth floor with it into oblivion.

The elevator car hung in limbo for a second, stuck on a floor that didn't exist, before falling back onto the twelfth floor, along with all of the floors above.

Before they knew it, the lift had reached the lobby again and the doors opened. Ryan turned to the Doctor, who was sitting dejectedly on the floor.

"All in one piece?" asked Ryan with care.

The Doctor ran an exhausted hand through his hair and sighed deeply.

"Just about," he said.

* * *

_End of Chapter Six._


	7. Chapter 7

Later, with Police and Firemen rushing about all around them, Mayor Greene and the Doctor stood at the foot of _The Ramis Hotel_. The thirteenth floor had disappeared, the glass and debris littering the street serving as the only evidence it ever existed.

"So," said the Mayor. "Are we okay now? Safe, I mean."

"God, no!" said the Doctor. "Why do politicians always ask me that? You're not safe from your own species, never mind the ones that come visiting."

The Mayor clenched her jaw, and reminded herself that this insufferable idiot had just saved her city. "Okay, fine. Are the _hotels_ safe?"

The Doctor huffed. "What did I just tell… you know what, yes. They're all perfectly safe, everything's hunky-dory and nothing bad will ever happen. There, feel better?"

The Mayor shook her head in frustration and cut to the chase. "Look, you saved my ass today, and I appreciate it. So, if you ever need any help, just -"

"Actually, as a matter of fact," said the Doctor, looking at the watch on the underside of his wrist. "What year is it, again, 2011? Listen, in about 4 months, you're going to get reports of a man with a really long scarf fighting with mannequins inside the gift shop at Yankee Stadium. Kindly ask your Police Officers _not_ to shoot at him."

The Mayor cocked an eyebrow. "Really long scarf?"

"Yeah," said the Doctor, "it's cool. Really long scarves are cool."

The Mayor rolled her eyes. "Whatever. You got it." She was just about to walk away, when she caught sight of Ryan across the road, having his head seen to by a paramedic. "How old is that kid?"

"17," said the Doctor.

"And you took him up there?"

"Ah, no, see I can explain. He… has this thing… about University and… fear of change… "

The Mayor gave him a disapproving look. "Listen, don't go getting him killed, okay?"

The Doctor nodded with a hint of guilt. "I'll try my best, your Honour."

Across the road, Ryan shrugged off the blanket that the Paramedic kept putting around him.

"This is the second time I've been knocked unconscious," he said. "Is that like a regular occurrence with the Doctor."

In front of him, Frankie gave him a wry smile. "Kinda. In fact, I'd consider keeping a piece of paper with you that has your name and home address on it. Just it case you ever wake up and can't remember who you are."

Before Ryan could work out if he was joking, the Doctor made his way over to them.

"Well, Frankie," he said. "What do you say? Fancy a trip?"

"Why?" asked Frankie with a grin. "So you can get me arrested on an alien planet too? No thanks. I'll stay here and get my affairs in order for the next time you breeze through town and try and get me killed."

The Doctor gave him a warm smile and wrapped him up in a big hug. "Till the next time, old friend."

"Stay safe, Doc."

"Well then," said the Doctor releasing Frankie. "Shall we be off, Ryan?"

Without waiting for an answer, he spun around on his heels, and was off down the street, jumping the Police barricades on his way.

"I suppose we are," said Ryan. But before he could follow, he felt Frankie's hand on his arm.

"Hey, Ryan," said Frankie. "If you're ever in town, and wanna talk, look me up. Okay?"

Ryan was rather confused by both the offer and Frankie's concerned expression while he offered it, but he smiled nonetheless. "Sure. See you, Frankie."

Frankie tipped his hat as Ryan walked away.

"Take care, kid," he muttered.

* * *

The sun was beginning to set by the time the Doctor and Ryan made it back to the Central Park and the TARDIS.

"So, how was that for a sight-seeing trip?" the Doctor asked.

"Well, I certainly saw some sights," said Ryan, getting a good last look at the city that never slept. "But there's just one thing I still don't understand."

The Doctor laughed. "That sounds like a line for the end of a 'Columbo' episode."

"Yeah, I suppose it does," Ryan pondered. "But still. The alien thingy -"

"The Zaubern," the Doctor corrected.

"Yeah, that. It showed people their homes, right? The place they wanted to be more than anywhere, but just couldn't quite get to."

"Yes," said the Doctor, taking the TARDIS key out of his pocket and approaching the Police Box. "Why?"

"It just doesn't make any sense. Not when it comes to you anyway." The Doctor slowed to a halt. Ryan chose his words carefully, and tried to be as delicate as possible. Because he had a feeling he already knew the answer to the question he was about to ask. "I mean, you've got a super duper space ship/time machine. You can pop back home anytime you want. Right?"

The Doctor kept his back to him, and for a second they stood there listening to the sound of New York settling in for the night. Eventually, though, he put the TARDIS key back in his pocket and turned to face Ryan.

"No," he said. "Not exactly."

Ryan had suspected as much since their awkward conversation in the elevator, and for the past few hours he'd been planning what to say when he eventually raised the topic again.

But ultimately, the only thing he could come up with was, "I'm sorry."

The Doctor nodded in unspoken thanks, and looked as if it was his turn to go about picking the right words.

"Doctor," said Ryan quickly. "You don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want to. I just wondered - "

"No," said the Doctor calmly. "I want to."

They sat themselves down on the bench where he'd picked up a newspaper earlier, and while the sun descended behind the Manhattan skyline in front of them, the Doctor told Ryan Murphy about the Last Great Time War. About what he'd seen, about what'd he done, and about what he'd lost.

"And are you sure?" Ryan asked, when the Doctor had finished. "I mean, that you're the only one left."

"Yes," said the Doctor.

"Bloody hell," Ryan breathed, making the Doctor smile. "The last of the Time Lords.

The Doctor waved a hand. "Oh, I try not to think of it like that anymore. If you keep thinking about things in terms 'Lasts' and 'Finals', you're missing the potential for all the 'Firsts' you could be. There's so many new experiences out there, Ryan, if we just give up when one thing comes to an end, they'll pass us by. That's why I keep going, even after all this time. That sky full of stars I showed you, I've barely touched half of them. So many 'firsts' just waiting to happen." The Doctor turned to him. "What about you? Still feel like coming along for the ride."

Ryan gazed across the lake, the skyscrapers starting to light up in the distance. "Yeah," he said. "I think I do."

The Doctor jumped to his feet. "Then shake a leg, Ryan Murphy! Let's go be the 'first' of something!"

They climbed into the big blue box, and took off into space, headed for everywhere.

* * *

Mayor Greene collapsed into her chair and removed her glasses.

"I was not informed that being Mayor would leave me so pooped," she said, fighting a yawn.

There was a knock on the door to her office, and the advisor who she had banned from speaking poked his head into the room. He opened his mouth, but remembered her decree and looked at her pleadingly.

She nodded reluctantly. "You can talk."

"Thank you," said the man. He stepped into the office, and held up the phone in his hand. "I have the New York Observatory on line one, and they're requesting to speak to you."

Mayor Greene rubbed her tired eyes and shook her head. "Tell them to call me on Monday,"

"No, your Honour," said the advisor, and the Mayor noticed for the first time how anxious he looked. "It's vital they speak to you now. They say its something about the sun."

"My son?" the Mayor asked, sitting up in her chair.

"No," the advisor said, gesturing to the window behind her, "_The_ sun."

The Mayor turned around and looked out of her window, where she saw the sun, just about to fall out of view.

What she didn't see was the war raging within it. She didn't see its hydrogen fuel beginning to exhaust, its nuclear reactions stopping, its core threatening to contract.

What she didn't see was that the sun was starting to die.

* * *

_**Next time**__**…**_

It's Ryan Murphy's first trip to another world, and he didn't exactly hit the jackpot.

This is a broken planet. A humbled civilisation that paid the ultimate price to save their very world. Only some people were made to pay more than others.

In the struggle to save their race, terrible crimes took place. And now those left behind are forced to face the consequences.

In a small corner of this world, thousands of people are stranded, with no hope of escape, and ungodly horrors closing in on them. In less than an hour, they will all be dead. The rest of the world watches in despair, powerless. They can do nothing to help. To even attempt to would be a suicide mission.

And those are the Doctor's favourite.


End file.
